


This is the end

by KS_Claw



Category: Guardians of Childhood - William Joyce, Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: Alternate Universe, what if
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-30
Updated: 2013-09-30
Packaged: 2017-12-28 01:11:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,729
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/985871
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KS_Claw/pseuds/KS_Claw
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The door is never opened</p>
            </blockquote>





	This is the end

**Author's Note:**

> Short of the long, I sat down and got an urge to make people cry. Let me know if I succeeded.

The iron and lead gates of the prison are behind him, and Kozmotis Pitchiner frowns as the whispers of its shadowy prisoners can be heard behind him.  
  
 _Open the door,_ they beg. _Please please **please** , open the door._  
  
He ignores them, grabbing his locket with one hand while leaning wearily against the scythe that he stands guard with. Everything, from the scythe to the fabric of his clothes, feels as if it grows heavier by the hour.  
  
He takes a look at his pocket watch, and with an exhausted but relieved sigh, he sees that it’s time to end the shift at the gates for today. And so he heads for the small set of barracks that functions as his home away from home.  
  
He leaves his scythe on a hook inside the door, before he heads to his bedrooms where he wearily rids himself of his uniform. Its padding keeps him warm in this part of space, where no sun can cast its light. It is meant to be a precaution, so that no shadows can be made, but the lack of sun also means lack of warmth. It is the worst at what is considered the night time of this part of space, which is why Kozmotis’ shift ends at this time. It gives him time to warm up, and relax a bit, before he goes on with some of his other chores.  
  
Military training does that his quarters are always clean and in proper order. This includes his desk, where there is a small stack of unopened letters from home. He really should get to reading through them one of these days, but he has just not felt up for it. Knowing that your daughter is growing up without you is disheartening. And knowing that she has to make a life for herself without both her parents is even worse.  
  
When was the last time he received a letter? Not since the last supply ship, and those are far and few between. No one wants to take any chances with the prison, and Kozmotis is no exception. It was specifically by his orders, that he asked for them to give him supplies for a specific amount of time, before another supply ship was needed. Examining a calendar reveals, much to his surprise, that the next ship will arrive in the morning. To Kozmotis, it doesn’t really bring much of a relief. It just means a few extra chores in the form of his usual report for the Tsar and the Constellation Council. It is possibly one of the only things he loathes as part of this duty, next to the guarding of the gates themselves, because it is so stars-be-damned **_boring_**.  
  
But it must be done, and there is no one else to do it. So Kozmotis decides to simply get it over with, and gets to work. He sits down, and he writes a report that spans about ten pages with the usual, useless drivel that simply boils down to how everything is fine, and there is nothing to worry about. The prison is shut and none of the shadows have escaped.  
  
 _Please please **please** **open the door.**_  
  
Kozmotis distracts himself by going to the kitchen, where he gets a kettle ready to boil water for tea. He doesn’t have much appetite these days, so doesn’t really have any urges to cook a meal right away. He idly wonders how it would have been if there had been someone with him, someone who would remind him that one can’t live on air alone. And for a moment, he is reminded of his wife, his dear Ebony. She would have been able to talk him into anything. If only…  
  
The sharp whistle of the kettle brings him out of his thoughts, and with a tired sigh, he pours the water up in a cup. He decides to go for a walk while drinking his tea, because it’s not like he has much else to do. So he goes and pulls on his uniform jacket, which will protect him from the cold of space, before he retrieves his cup and heads out. It is as cold as he predicted, and the warmth of the cup is a welcome distraction, the steam from it leaving a cloudy trail in the night air.  
  
His walk takes him past the prison gates, and he glances idly at them with a tired, but grim look, listening to the voices who seem to become more insistent when they notice they have an actual audience.  
  
 _Please please please, **open the door!** Just a **crack** , just a breath of **fresh air!**_  
  
Kozmotis turns his back to the door, and looks to the stars instead. It is a lovely night, he thinks. The kind that he appreciated a lot in his youth. It was a night, when you on planet-side would go horseback riding or in carriage, or just simply on your own two feet, hand in hand or arm in arm with someone you loved. He remembered a time where he had shared more than one night like this with his wife, his arms wrapped around her and her petite body fitting so well against his…  
  
“Good evening.” A voice says suddenly. He hasn’t heard another person’s voice in a long time, and it results in Kozmotis jumping in surprise, before swearing as he scalds his bare hands with the otherwise hot tea. The cup falls and is smashed on the rock hard ground.  
  
“My apologies,” the voice says, belonging to a cloaked figure that stands not far off. “I did not mean to startle you.” The voice… doesn’t sound right, Kozmotis thinks, as he frowns at the figure. In part, it feels like it should belong to a man, but at the same time it also has a feminine tone to it… He finally shakes his head a bit.  
  
“It- It’s alright.” He says, and is not surprised to hear how rough his own voice sounds. “You… gave me quite a start. I’m not… quite used to company.”  
  
“Except those silly ol’ beasties, correct?” The figure says, and despite how Kozmotis can’t see it’s face, he can feel the smile, teasing and cat-like as it glances towards the gates.  
  
Strangely, for the first time in what has been years, the shadows have gone silent. Whatever invisible claws that had been digging in have disappeared, and… Kozmotis can’t begin to describe how much of a relief it is.  
  
Doesn’t mean he has to be rude though.  
  
“My name is Kozmotis Pitchiner,” he introduces politely. “May I ask who you are?”  
  
The figure chuckles. “I have many names, my dear General. But you know me well. We have met many times before, even though this will be the first time in person.”  
  
The Golden General frowns. “My apologies, but I don’t recall-” he wants to say that he doesn’t recall ever meeting this stranger. But, a small voice in his mind whispers, that is not quite true, now is it?  
  
He remembers long ago battles, not just against Fearlings, but humans who have willingly joined with the Nightmare Men and Dream Pirates, humans who wished to bring the Constellation to their knees and tarnish the Golden Age in more ways than one. Some were worse than others, pretending to be your friend one minute, and then stabbing you in the back when you weren’t looking.  
  
Kozmotis hated killing. He hated killing, and he hated war, and he hated the people who loved nothing more than to spread this chaos and pain, that started wars and spread misery and anguish and death. All he had ever wanted, was to spend time with his family, to be with his wife, to watch his daughter grow up… But that had all been ripped from him so very early on. His darling wife, brutally murdered by a Dream Pirate, while she had fought to protect their daughter… and how had he repaid her? He had thrown himself into the war, intent on nothing but fighting and capturing the enemy that had taken a part of what he held dearest to his heart. It was only his daughter that kept him from losing what sanity he had, and it was why he so selfishly had taken this final assignment to guard the prison, so that no one else would have to suffer such loss again…  
  
“An assignment that you now can say is finally over.” The robed figure says, its tone strangely gentle.  
  
Kozmotis looks up, startled out of his thoughts, before he frowns. “What exactly do you mean?” He asks, getting an odd, nagging feeling that something is wrong.  
  
The robed figure reaches up, and draws down its hood, and Kozmotis draws in a sharp breath.  
  
He has seen this ones face countless times, described in poems and hymns, in songs and in portraits, all dedicated to the temples at home. He knows her face, because she had been one of the first he would pray to before going into battle, and one of the first to be grateful to when he survived it.  
  
He almost falls to his knees in front of her, but the Goddess of Death stops him before he has a chance to, her grip so gentle, and yet so rock hard and firm on his shoulders, as she makes him look up at her. She smiles as he meets her gaze, and her eyes are like the deepest, warm darkness, the kind you share with a lover.  
  
“My dear, brave General,” she says gently. “You don’t have to kneel for me. You have done more than enough of that in life.” She turns her head, looking in the direction of the port. “Look.”  
  
Kozmotis looks. And he frowns at the sight of what he sees… A golden ship, a galleon from the looks of it, is coming towards them, at a steady but fast pace. At the speed it is going, there is a chance that it could easily crash into the port; But Kozmotis somehow doubts that it will.  
  
“But… The supply ship won’t be here until tomorrow.” He finds himself saying dumbly. The Goddess lets out a laugh, that sounds like silver bells, and somehow, the coming of night.  
  
“It is not that kind of ship, my dear Kozmotis!” She chuckles. “That is _your_ ship. Do you recognize it?”  
  
Kozmotis blinks and looks closer, before his eyes widen. “…Impossible.” He breathes. “It can’t be her… She was split to atoms in a black hole!”  
  
“It is indeed the _Eclipse_.” The Goddess replies. “As good as the day she first set sail. She is just waiting for one more passenger.”  
  
It doesn’t take long for Kozmotis to understand what she means. When he looks at her, the Goddess simply smiles gently.  
  
“Remember when you said, that I gave you quite a start?” When he simply nods in response, she glances towards the ground.

"Well… I also gave you quite a _stop!_ ”  
  
He doesn’t really seem to hear her, as he is looking towards the galleon again. She is a beautiful sight, gliding as elegantly into the port as if she belongs there, and he feels a smile tug at his lips, slowly turning into a grin. The Goddess gives him a light nudge, motioning for him to go on ahead, and he begins to walk towards the port. The sight of the gangplank being lowered turns the walk into a run, and before he knows it, he is on the deck and looking around.  
  
And they are all there. Good men he has known well enough so that they could be called friends, from his very youth at the Academy until the last days of the wars where the battles were especially fierce. They all look as young as he remembers, and they cheer at the sight of him.  
  
One of his most trusted commanders swings down from one of the masts and lands on the wooden boards with a hard thud, before he straightens up and throws a cheery salute, while grinning like a maniac at the General.  
  
“It’s good to see ya Koz!” He says in the informal way that Kozmotis remembers. “We’ve all missed ya! Though not as much as she has.”  
  
He feels his mouth go dry at those words. “She…?”  
  
But he knows she will be there, even before he turns his head to look. And even when he does so, he still draws in a breath so sharply, that he feels tears prickle in the corners of his eyes.  
  
She stands in the door that leads what is otherwise the captains quarters, clad in a deep blue dress and her hair set up with elegant braids. Ebony is just as beautiful as he remembers, and when she smiles, Kozmotis feels as if a missing part of him is being set back into place.  
  
She sets off towards him in a run, and he catches her, practically crushing her against his own body as he holds her tightly, burying his face in her hair with a strained noise.  
  
“ _I missed you.._.” He mutters in a strangled tone, and he feels her smile, running her fingers through his hair.  
  
“I missed you too. So very much…” Ebony whispers. “My darling, my dearest, my everything… Welcome home.”  
  
“Home..?” He swallows drily, realizing he had almost forgotten… “Seraphina…” And then with sudden horror; “The shadows!”  
  
Ebony simply smiles, cupping his face gently with both her hands. “It’s all right. Where we are now, there is no concept of time. And here, there are no shadows and no darkness to tarnish anything.”  
  
He frowns confused. “I don’t understand…”  
  
“It means, that you do not have to worry about waiting for her.” Ebony says gently. “Nor do you have to be afraid for her. She is living life to its fullest now. She has a wonderful husband and a beautiful child, with another on the way.” She sighed, smiling sadly. “She will mourn you… but she will also be glad that you are free.”  
  
“Free…” Kozmotis echoes quietly, looking back towards the prison. He can see the white figure that is the Goddess of Death, and somehow, he thinks he can also see a figure on the ground, unmoving. Somewhere, he can hear a very feint echo that sounds like a furious screaming.  
  
“The Fearlings…”  
  
“They are angry.” Ebony says quietly. “They tried so hard to lure you to them, to trick you into opening the door… But they simply tried too hard.” She smiled, resting her head against his shoulder as she looked towards the prison as well. “My brave Kozmotis… To put it simply? You _won._ ”  
  
And somehow, her words mean more than anything to him in the universe. He looks down at her and smiles.  
  
“I did win, didn’t I…” He says quietly. “And I won my freedom, fair and square.”  
  
He looks to the crew, who has silently, and patiently watched the whole conversation, his commander standing with his arms crossed and a crooked smirk on his lips.  
  
“Just waitin’ for your orders, Koz.” He says, and Kozmotis returns the smirk.  
  
“Well what the hell are we waiting for!?” He shouts, and pulls Ebony close as she laughs. “Raise the gangplank!”  
  
“Aye aye, Sir!” The crew cheers as they eagerly set to work.  
  
“Any specific course?” The commander asks. Kosmotis takes a moment to think, before he looks to Ebony, who just smiles and shrugs.  
  
“Set the course for wherever you want.” The General replies with a grin.  
  
“Aye, General.” The other chuckles, before he calls out: “Cail! Full speed ahead!”  
  
The Goddess watches silently as the Eclipse takes off. She glances down towards the body of the General and simply smiles. In the morning, he will be found by the crew from the supply ship, and the man’s death will bring many changes.  
  
For one thing, no one will be posted at the prison again. The new Tsar Lunanoff will see to that. And while the prison won’t last forever, it will be a long time before they escape. And it will not be thanks to the plan they had amongst themselves, which involved possessing a lonely man who was missing his only child.  
  
Perhaps in another time, in another life. But not in this one.  
  
 **The End.**


End file.
